A Glibertarians Exclusive: Season of Ice X
On the river
Moving downstream was, as it always is, much faster than rowing up. On the first afternoon they passed the village they had raided and burned, to find a band of provincial cavalry picking through the ruins. The horsemen rode to the riverbank and loosed arrows at the Northmen’s ship, but Mabinne gestured, and a sheet of ice rose from the river, deflecting the arrows. As the ship moved away, its crew untouched, the horsemen made to follow but found their horses’ hooves frozen to the ground. When they dismounted, they found their own boots encased in ice as well.
“The horses will be uncomfortable, but they shouldn’t be lamed,” Mabinne said as the laughing rowers moved the ship down-river, away from the shouting, cursing provincials. Hengist looked at her, one shaggy eyebrow raised. Mabinne shrugged. “It’s not the horses’ fault who rides it.”
Later that day, Mabinne took some water to their sole captive, the fire caster from the village they had sacked. The girl’s eyes blazed. Mabinne undid her gag to allow her to drink, which she did, thirstily. Then she spiked Mabinne with a glare.
“You’re of Beretan, aren’t you?” The girl’s Beretanian sounded strange to Mabinne after so many months of speaking Ikslunder. “What are you doing with these… beasts? What made you turn against your own kind?”
“You wouldn’t believe me,” Mabinne snapped, “if I told you.” She regarded the girl. “What’s your name?”
“Aalis,” the girl replied. “Aalis Pummeroy.”
“You’ll have been to the academy, then.”
“I have.”
“You’ll remember the Northmen and women there? They did the cooking, cleaning and so on?”
“I do.”
“Slaves,” Mabinne told her. “How does that sit with you?”
“No less then they deserve, if you ask me,” Aalis said, scowling. “A generation raiding our shores, only just we get some back.”
“Wait a few days,” Mabinne advised. “You may find yourself singing a different tune.”
The rest of the trip was uneventful, and three days later they were on the open sea, tied alongside two other ships of the summer fleet.
The raid leaders conferred on Hengist’s ship. While they were skeptical at first, Mabinne explained her plan, and Hengist and his second Jorgunn assured the other leaders that Mabinne was sincere. After a detailed description of her actions to date, the plan was agreed to.
That night, just after the moon had set, the three ships anchored at the foot of the cliff under the magic-user academy.
“Sweet,” Hengist said, motioning to the water. “It’s all up to you now.” The crews of all three longboats were in full fighting trim: Iron breastplates, swords, crossbows, and helms.
Mabinne moved to the front of the ship. She extended her hands…
A broad, solid patch of ice appeared and grew, slowly, slowly. Mabinne let out a gasp of effort; Hengist placed his hand on her shoulder, a concerned look on his face, but Mabinne shook her head. “I can do it. Saltwater freezes harder than fresh.” She could feel the weight of one of her soul crystals, on a chain around her neck. No, she told herself, I’ll need those later.
“There,” she said at last. “Get everybody on the ice.”
The raiders scrambled on to the sudden ice floe, cautious of their footing at first, then more confidently when they found Mabinne had managed to texture the surface to make for sure footing. When the last raider was aboard, save the one man each left behind to mind the longboats, Mabinne stepped onto the ice and walked to the forward edge.
“Mind yourselves,” she warned the raiders, “and stay away from the edge. This isn’t going to be easy.”
The men clustered together, but Hengist remained at Mabinne’s side. “You can do this, sweet,” he said, smiling. “Raiders in a hundred years will sing songs of this day.”
“I know,” she said, smiling. Then, with an audible gasp, almost of pain, she raised her hands.
The ice floe rose. A column of ice rose from the sea, bearing the raiders aloft – higher and higher, until it reached the top of the cliff.
There was no response from the great stone bulk of the academy building.
“Let’s go,” Hengist said, his voice little more than a whisper.
Mabinne collapsed into the grass. In spite of the ice, she was physically spent, soaked with sweat from the short but overwhelming effort. When she finally looked up, she could see she was proven correct. There were no guards, no watchers covering the rear of the academy. The raiders swarmed in through the gardens, into several doors, and took the bulk of the students and instructors in their sleep. Mabinne got tiredly to her feet and followed.
One fire-wielder incinerated two raiders in a narrow hallway before Mabinne arrived to encase her in a block of ice hard as granite. She moved to an overlook in the front wall she remembered from her time as a student, and so by the time the raiders got to the front of the building, the watchtowers, and the guards within, were likewise encased in ice.
In the end, sixteen students – all girls – and four instructors, three women and one man, were taken captive. The raid leaders placed binding collars on each of them, and then the sack began.
While the raiders were looting, Mabinne went back outside. The sun was rising. She could see the great round elevator of ice she had made, and remembering, not so long ago, when she couldn’t have imagined doing such a thing.
It was that binding collar, she mused, and more than that, it was that I fought against it. Somehow it made me stronger. As a blacksmith grows powerful through handling iron all his life, as a messenger grows faster from running, somehow, my pushing back against the collar gave me greater magical strength. I wonder what I could do with one of the soul crystals. She reached into the pouch she wore at her belt; her other soul crystal was inside. It felt faintly warm.
She watched as a pair of laughing Northmen led the captives out of the building. All had hands bound in addition to the binding collars, but Mabinne could see several of them fighting to summon their own particular magics. I’ll have to watch that, she thought. With the captives came a dozen laughing, liberated Ikslunders, three men and nine women, chattering excitedly, happy to be going home.
Mabinne found lowering the pillar of ice easier than raising it. All I had to do is release my hold on it, she mused, realizing in the moment that she hadn’t been aware that she had been maintaining the ice by force of will. No wonder I’m so exhausted. Her amazement at her new-found strength had not gone away. It was the months in the binding collar, she reminded herself. I wonder what just a few days will do for these captives.
She climbed into Hengist’s ship and watched from his side as the freed Ikslunders and the captives were loaded into the raiding fleet’s ships. Then, as the sun was not yet at the zenith, the fleet set sail north for Port Stronghold.
Over the three days the fleet sailed north, Mabinne made a point of circulating among the captives. She described Port Stronghold to them, its markets, the general layout of the city. “Things might go more smoothly if they have some idea what to expect,” she told Hengist when he asked her about it. “Also, you know, I have some idea how they are feeling right now. I cannot help but be a little sympathetic, even if things for me did turn out rather better than I expected.” She smiled at the big Northman.
“Some of the men may be keeping some of the girls for themselves,” Hengist pointed out. “They won’t all be going to the markets.”
“I have told them that, too,” Mabinne said. “I could hardly have forgotten that, you know.”
Hengist grinned, nodded and moved off.
Finally, they arrived at Port Stronghold. As the year before, the great chain was lowered to allow the raiding fleet to enter the harbor. As the year before, the sails were furled, and Hengist bellowed at his men to man the oars. And as the year before, the ships of the summer fleet arrived at the docks.
When the ship was tied off, Hengist stood, started shouting orders. As the year before, young roustabouts swarmed aboard the ship to carry the loot away to the markets.
Mabinne stood up. She leaned over the side of the ship, looked at the water, and extended a hand.
The water around the ships froze.
Hengist stopped his shouting. He looked down at the water, then turned to look at the Beretan woman he now acknowledged as his wife. “Sweet?”
The ice rose swiftly up over the sides of the ships, into the ships, and grew up to encase the Ikslunders – only the Ikslunders – in a hands-breadth cocoon of ice. Tendrils of ice reached out to the captives, encased their binding collars and, with a tap of an ice tendril, shattered them. The mages were loose.
Mabinne had left Hengist’s head free. She walked over to look him in the face with a snarl. “Did you think I’d forgotten?” she snapped. “You murdered my husband, raped me, took me as a slave. Didn’t you think that one day I’d take my life back from you?”
The ice grew over Hengist’s face, sealing him in a solid cocoon.
On the shore, city guards and a host of armed Ikslunders had seen the ice and were rushing towards the docks. Aalis Pummeroy came to stand beside Mabinne, flame dancing around her fingertips. “What do we do? We can’t handle all of them.”
“I can.” Mabinne reached into the pouch on her belt, found the soul crystal, crushed it.
An unbelievable surge of power filled her, overflowing, making the surge she had felt when her binding collar was removed as nothing by comparison. She knew the power would overwhelm her in a moment, and so stepped to the bow of the ship, around the icy coffins of Hengist and his Northmen, and held her hands high, let the icy power flow away…
And all of Port Stronghold was covered in ice. Rock-hard ice, as deep as a big Ikslunder was tall. The mightiest city of the Northlands was laid low in a stroke.
Mabinne stepped back, exhausted. “We’ll take two of the ships,” she said, softly, to the captives. “Aalis, melt the ice around us. Someone, raise the sails. Any wind mages, take us out to sea.”
Over the years that followed, the news spread like fire, warning of an army of magic-users, that preyed on the villages and ports of Ikslund and the Ashlands. The army was led by a Beretan woman, an ice-magic user with long brown hair, who was said to be on the path of revenge. Mabinne the Merciless, as she was known, and no settlement was safe; all Beretanian, Jutlander or Mondrian captives were freed, those that held them killed, any others that resisted were burned or buried in ice.
Mabinne, at the head of her growing army, often heard of the fear her army inspired, and was amused. But sometimes, late at night, alone in her sleeping furs, she could still hear Hengist’s laughter.
The End (?)
Oh shit!
Bravo!!!
Revenge is a dish best served icy?
Thanks Animal, a great conclusion to a great story. A turn of events which didn’t surprise me too much. I was expecting something and you didn’t let me down.
Hope you have another one cooking
We need a few bravo gifs.
Ha! We did get the full Elsa (on two fronts — first, the ice-scalator evoked the staircase scene in my mind… and of course, the denouement. Hope our early voting didn’t influence the outcome, Animal — don’t want to alter your artistic vision.
But certainly some revenge best served… cold. Applause.
DAMN!
Kind of thought that might happen, then thought she seemed happy, then figured she could never forget how she got raped.
Great story, Animal.
The Conclusion.
NOOOOOO!
But a kick ass ending. I was hoping she’d fuck him up, but I didn’t see the rest coming!
Great series, Animal. Thank you.
I figured she might get revenge on Hengist, but I never imagined she’d go apeshit on the entire country.
The oppressed always become the most brutal and enthusiastic oppressors. It reminds me of what C.S. Lewis said about ‘…the approval of their own conscience.’
Same here. He should have been really worried once she said something about not wanting to see anyone in chains… What a fool Hengist was.
Cold. Very, very cold.
I was anticipating something like this.
Great story, Animal, Bravo!
Yay! I knew she’d take her revenge!
Great ending to a great series! Thanks you!
Your as cold as ice
You’re willing to sacrifice
Our love
I’m Cold.
I didn’t see it coming; I was never certain.
Wonderfully done, Mr. Animal.
I thought she was with them and then you bamboozled my bamboozlement in the denouement.
I’m sorry that one’s over.
I’m mulling over a sequel. We’ll see. I’m being… encouraged, on multiple fronts, to produce the third Nova Roma book and the final book in the Confederation series.
By the way, (shameless self-promotion incoming) the first two Confederation books, The Crider Chronicles and Sky of Diamonds, have officially been re-released.
Congrats!
I must have ordered TCC before it went out of print. Sky of Diamonds will be accompanying me on vacation.
Thanks!
I enjoyed the Crider Chronicles, but never read the Sky of Diamonds.
I will order that from home later.
Probably due to what I’m reading — but I read that as “The Cider Chronicles” and was wondering if you’d set up a sequel to the Whiskey Rebellion or something.
Haha, that’s how I read it too. Except I just imagined a fun time getting drunk.
I’m so glad you linked to that and saved my labor.
Ordering now – Merry Festivus to me!
“…I gotta lotta problems with you people!”
I can’t wait for this year’s “Airing of Grievances.”
I must order these
So, rescues a bunch of slaves and then kills them, followed by the slaughter of an entire major city, then goes on a campaign of genocide.
The power of narrative DEMANDS that a counterforce rise up to defeat her.
More please!
Dayum… Too bad she destroyed all the binding collars. They’d make for a good tool at the academy.
She may regret that when Ikslund develops their own
WMDsmagic wielders.I was thinking the exact same. Put it on yourself, or an instructor does, and you fight to get out of it, thus becoming stronger. Profit!
If the knowledge of how to build them lives outside of Port Stronghold, I expect her raiding parties can find a suitable magical blacksmith in the Ikslund countryside.
Alternate question — do you really need to resistance of the collars, or is that just a convenient way to avoid devastating the countryside when an Elemental Mage pushes themselves? Stressing to do larger and larger effects may do the same thing — just harder on test environment, after all. GlibMageFit topic?
‘ all the binding collars. ‘
Only the ones that were on the mages.
No Stockholm Syndrome. Huh. Was wrong about that.
Thanks Animal!
Great story Animal, would like more from this universe. The End (?)
PSA:
Mind your butt.
I guess the methane and O2 concentrations were inside the explosive range.
Kid Canada
@Kid_Canada77
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2h
Replying to
@EPLBibIe
There needs to be a warning on cigarette packages about this
I love this. My new favorite dance video.
I can’t believe he survived that.
Is it real?
Very much so
Oregon cops concerned new gun law will impact them off-duty
https://www.lawofficer.com/oregon-officers-concerned-new-gun-law-will-impact-them-off-duty/
Usually they write in exemptions for cops and military but these idiots didn’t bother.
Why, they’re being treated like they’re regular “civilians” – the horror!
– 1 professional courtesy
As an aside, my cousin was “on the job” in NYC for a bunch of years & they didn’t use “civilians” – the world was divided into “shitbirds” and “citizens”.
My heart breaks for these noble public servants.
Doesn’t matter, it won’t be enforced against the cops anyway.
I’m sure there’s an implication of an emanation and penumbra that the new law doesn’t apply to pubsecs.
Depends on if the cop voted R or D.
No, but I’ll still enjoy reading Fenix Ammo’s replies to Oregon cops to get fucked after said LEOs complain about how they are exempt from restrictions as King’s Men.
Oregon really does say hold my beer to California.
More like “hold my soy latte.”
I’d love to see the Oregon National Guard looking for 10-round AR mags for state duty. I suppose belts on machine guns can just be broken off at 10.
Nice thought, but no. First the military including the guard is exempt from the capacity and second they order via the NSN in the same supply system as regular army.
Back during the AWB era, there was zero accountability of post ban mags. Many ended up in personal possessions.
I knew NJ Guard soldiers who were not supposed to touch a weapon while on state active duty due to certain misdemeanors.
Same here. Thanks to the Lautenberg Amendment. Misdemeanor DV convictions.
LOL. Cry harder, noble public servants.
Agencies will argue that officers are never really off duty and either sign letters so they can purchase privately or order via the agency.
For those agencies that are supposedly too poor to purchase department owned firearms (bullshit), reduce new hires’ wages by $10 week for the first year. There’s your department funds to purchase a department owned firearm.
while I liked the story arc overall, the magic seems a tad overpowered, bit deus ex machina at the end
If you were wondering where the neo-cons are trying to start the next war.
https://www.msn.com/en-xl/news/other/spain-does-not-clarify-whether-it-will-support-kosovo-s-imminent-application-for-eu-membership/ar-AA15bOij
Kosovo is still part of Serbia under international law, they have declared independence (while keeping a sizable Serbian minority inside its border). Recognizing Kosovo independence without some partition for the Serb there will get a nice new hot war going in Europe. The crazy people in charge of our foreign policy think that’s cool.
Thank God history doesn’t repeat.
The Balkans again? Bo-ring.
Anybody got an archduke laying around? We need one over here stat!
Don’t they have a provision against accepting states with territorial disputes?
When your currency is collapsing and you need a war, the rules tend to go out the window.
We’ve still got the targeting data lying around from the Clinton days, right?
Gawd, I know a captain that resigned her commission over that.